Eclipse

by Stephenie Meyer

Jacob sighed. "But she doesn't know it."

  "I can't tell you if you're right."

  "Does that bother you? Do you wish you could see what she's thinking, too?"

  "Yes . . . and no, again. She likes it better this way, and, though it sometimes drives me insane, I'd rather she was happy."

  The wind ripped around the tent, shaking it like an earthquake. Jacob's arms tightened around me protectively.

  "Thank you," Edward whispered. "Odd as this might sound, I suppose I'm glad you're here, Jacob."

  "You mean, 'as much as I'd love to kill you, I'm glad she's warm,' right?"

  "It's an uncomfortable truce, isn't it?"

  Jacob's whisper was suddenly smug. "I knew you were just as crazy jealous as I am."

  "I'm not such a fool as to wear it on my sleeve like you do. It doesn't help your case, you know."

  "You have more patience than I do."

  "I should. I've had a hundred years to gain it. A hundred years of waiting for her."

  "So . . . at what point did you decide to play the very patient good guy?"

  "When I saw how much it was hurting her to make her choose. It's not usually this difficult to control. I can smother the . . . less civilized feelings I may have for you fairly easily most of the time. Sometimes I think she sees through me, but I can't be sure."

  "I think you were just worried that if you really forced her to choose, she might not choose you."

  Edward didn't answer right away. "That was a part of it," he finally admitted. "But only a small part. We all have our moments of doubt. Mostly I was worried that she'd hurt herself trying to sneak away to see you. After I'd accepted that she was more or less safe with you -- as safe as Bella ever is -- it seemed best to stop driving her to extremes."

  Jacob sighed. "I'd tell her all of this, but she'd never believe me."

  "I know." It sounded like Edward was smiling.

  "You think you know everything," Jacob muttered.

  "I don't know the future," Edward said, his voice suddenly unsure.

  There was a long pause.

  "What would you do if she changed her mind?" Jacob asked.

  "I don't know that either."

  Jacob chuckled quietly. "Would you try to kill me?" Sarcastic again, as if doubting Edward's ability to do it.

  "No."

  "Why not?" Jacob's tone was still jeering.

  "Do you really think I would hurt her that way?"

  Jacob hesitated for a second, and then sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I know that's right. But sometimes . . ."

  "Sometimes it's an intriguing idea."

  Jacob pressed his face into the sleeping bag to muffle his laugher. "Exactly," he eventually agreed.

  What a strange dream this was. I wondered if it was the relentless wind that made me imagine all the whispering. Only the wind was screaming rather than whispering . . .

  "What is it like? Losing her?" Jacob asked after a quiet moment, and there was no hint of humor in his suddenly hoarse voice. "When you thought that you'd lost her forever? How did you . . . cope?"

  "That's very difficult for me to talk about."

  Jacob waited.

  "There were two different times that I thought that." Edward spoke each word just a little slower than normal. "The first time, when I thought I could leave her . . . that was . . . almost bearable. Because I thought she would forget me and it would be like I hadn't touched her life. For over six months I was able to stay away, to keep my promise that I wouldn't interfere again. It was getting close -- I was fighting but I knew I wasn't going to win; I would have come back . . . just to check on her. That's what I would have told myself, anyway. And if I'd found her reasonably happy . . . I like to think that I could have gone away again.

  "But she wasn't happy. And I would have stayed. That's how she convinced me to stay with her tomorrow, of course. You were wondering about that before, what could possibly motivate me . . . what she was feeling so needlessly guilty about. She reminded me of what it did to her when I left -- what it still does to her when I leave. She feels horrible about bringing that up, but she's right. I'll never be able to make up for that, but I'll never stop trying anyway."

  Jacob didn't respond for a moment, listening to the storm or digesting what he'd heard, I didn't know which.

  "And the other time -- when you thought she was dead?" Jacob whispered roughly.

  "Yes." Edward answered a different question. "It will probably feel like that to you, won't it? The way you perceive us, you might not be able to see her as Bella anymore. But that's who she'll be."

  "That's not what I asked."

  Edward's voice came back fast and hard. "I can't tell you how it felt. There aren't words."

  Jacob's arms flexed around me.

  "But you left because you didn't want to make her a bloodsucker. You want her to be human."

  Edward spoke slowly. "Jacob, from the second that I realized that I loved her, I knew there were only four possibilities. The first alternative, the best one for Bella, would be if she didn't feel as strongly for me -- if she got over me and moved on. I would accept that, though it would never change the way I felt. You think of me as a . . . living stone -- hard and cold. That's true. We are set the way we are, and it is very rare for us to experience a real change. When that happens, as when Bella entered my life, it is a permanent change. There's no going back. . . .

  "The second alternative, the one I'd originally chosen, was to stay with her throughout her human life. It wasn't a good option for her, to waste her life with someone who couldn't be human with her, but it was the alternative I could most easily face. Knowing all along that, when she died, I would find a way to die, too. Sixty years, seventy years -- it would seem like a very, very short time to me. . . . But then it proved much too dangerous for her to live in such close proximity with my world. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did. Or hung over us . . . waiting to go wrong. I was terrified that I wouldn't get those sixty years if I stayed near her while she was human.

  "So I chose option three. Which turned out to be the worst mistake of my very long life, as you know. I chose to take myself out of her world, hoping to force her into the first alternative. It didn't work, and it very nearly killed us both.

  "What do I have left but the fourth option? It's what she wants -- at least, she thinks she does. I've been trying to delay her, to give her time to find a reason to change her mind, but she's very . . . stubborn. You know that. I'll be lucky to stretch this out a few more months. She has a horror of getting older, and her birthday is in September. . . ."

  "I like option one," Jacob muttered.

  Edward didn't respond.

  "You know exactly how much I hate to accept this," Jacob whispered slowly, "but I can see that you do love her . . . in your way. I can't argue with that anymore.

  "Given that, I don't think you should give up on the first alternative, not yet. I think there's a very good chance that she would be okay. After time. You know, if she hadn't jumped off a cliff in March . . . and if you'd waited another six months to check on her. . . . Well, you might have found her reasonably happy. I had a game plan."

  Edward chuckled. "Maybe it would have worked. It was a well thought-out plan."

  "Yeah." Jake sighed. "But . . . ," suddenly he was whispering so fast the words got tangled, "give me a year, bl -- Edward. I really think I could make her happy. She's stubborn, no one knows that better than I do, but she's capable of healing. She would have healed before. And she could be human, with Charlie and Renee, and she could grow up, and have kids and . . . be Bella.

  "You love her enough that you have to see the advantages of that plan. She thinks you're very unselfish . . . are you really? Can you consider the idea that I might be better for her than you are?"

  "I have considered it," Edward answered quietly. "In some ways, you would be better suited for her than another human. Bella takes some looking after, and you're strong enough that you could protect her from hers
elf, and from everything that conspires against her. You have done that already, and I'll owe you for that for as long as I live -- forever -- whichever comes first. . . .

  "I even asked Alice if she could see that -- see if Bella would be better off with you. She couldn't, of course. She can't see you, and then Bella's sure of her course, for now.

  "But I'm not stupid enough to make the same mistake I made before, Jacob. I won't try to force her into that first option again. As long as she wants me, I'm here."

  "And if she were to decide that she wanted me?" Jacob challenged. "Okay, it's a long shot, I'll give you that."

  "I would let her go."

  "Just like that?"

  "In the sense that I'd never show her how hard it was for me, yes. But I would keep watch. You see, Jacob, you might leave her someday. Like Sam and Emily, you wouldn't have a choice. I would always be waiting in the wings, hoping for that to happen."

  Jacob snorted quietly. "Well, you've been much more honest than I had any right to expect . . . Edward. Thanks for letting me in your head."

  "As I said, I'm feeling oddly grateful for your presence in her life tonight. It was the least I could do. . . . You know, Jacob, if it weren't for the fact that we're natural enemies and that you're also trying to steal away the reason for my existence, I might actually like you."

  "Maybe . . . if you weren't a disgusting vampire who was planning to suck out the life of the girl I love . . . well, no, not even then."

  Edward chuckled.

  "Can I ask you something?" Edward said after a moment.

  "Why would you have to ask?"

  "I can only hear if you think of it. It's just a story that Bella seemed reluctant to tell me about the other day. Something about a third wife . . . ?"

  "What about it?"

  Edward didn't answer, listening to the story in Jacob's head. I heard his low hiss in the darkness.

  "What?" Jacob demanded again.

  "Of course," Edward seethed. "Of course! I rather wish your elders had kept that story to themselves, Jacob."

  "You don't like the leeches being painted as the bad guys?" Jacob mocked. "You know, they are. Then and now."

  "I really couldn't care less about that part. Can't you guess which character Bella would identify with?"

  It took Jacob a minute. "Oh. Ugh. The third wife. Okay, I see your point."

  "She wants to be there in the clearing. To do what little she can, as she puts it." He sighed. "That was the secondary reason for my staying with her tomorrow. She's quite inventive when she wants something."

  "You know, your military brother gave her the idea just as much as the story did."

  "Neither side meant any harm," Edward whispered, peace-making now.

  "And when does this little truce end?" Jacob asked. "First light? Or do we wait until after the fight?"

  There was a pause as they both considered.

  "First light," they whispered together, and then laughed quietly.

  "Sleep well, Jacob," Edward murmured. "Enjoy the moment."

  It was quiet again, and the tent held still for a few minutes. The wind seemed to have decided that it wasn't going to flatten us after all, and was giving up the fight.

  Edward groaned softly. "I didn't mean that quite so literally."

  "Sorry," Jacob whispered. "You could leave, you know -- give us a little privacy."

  "Would you like me to help you sleep, Jacob?" Edward offered.

  "You could try," Jacob said, unconcerned. "It would be interesting to see who walked away, wouldn't it?"

  "Don't tempt me too far, wolf. My patience isn't that perfect."

  Jacob whispered a laugh. "I'd rather not move just now, if you don't mind."

  Edward started humming to himself, louder than usual -- trying to drown out Jacob's thoughts, I assumed. But it was my lullaby he hummed, and, despite my growing discomfort with this whispered dream, I sank deeper into unconsciousness . . . into other dreams that made better sense. . . .

  23. MONSTER

  WHEN I WOKE UP IN THE MORNING, IT WAS VERY bright -- even inside the tent, the sunlight hurt my eyes. And I was sweating, as Jacob had predicted. Jacob was snoring lightly in my ear, his arms still wrapped around me.

  I pulled my head away from his feverishly warm chest and felt the sting of the cold morning on my clammy cheek. Jacob sighed in his sleep; his arms tightened unconsciously.

  I squirmed, unable to loosen his hold, struggling to lift my head enough to see. . . .

  Edward met my gaze evenly. His expression was calm, but the pain in his eyes was unconcealed.

  "Is it any warmer out there?" I whispered.

  "Yes. I don't think the space heater will be necessary today."

  I tried to get to the zipper, but I couldn't free my arms. I strained, fighting against Jacob's inert strength. Jacob muttered, still fast asleep, his arms constricting again.

  "Some help?" I asked quietly.

  Edward smiled. "Did you want me to take his arms all the way off?"

  "No, thank you. Just get me free. I'm going to get heat stroke."

  Edward unzipped the sleeping bag in a swift, abrupt movement. Jacob fell out, his bare back hitting the icy floor of the tent.

  "Hey!" he complained, his eyes flying open. Instinctively, he flinched away from the cold, rolling onto me. I gasped as his weight knocked the breath out of me.

  And then his weight was gone. I felt the impact as Jacob flew into one of the tent poles and the tent shuddered.

  The growling erupted from all around. Edward was crouching in front of me, and I couldn't see his face, but the snarls were ripping angrily out of his chest. Jacob was half-crouched, too, his whole body quivering, while growls rumbled through his clenched teeth. Outside the tent, Seth Clearwater's vicious snarls echoed off the rocks.

  "Stop it, stop it!" I yelled, scrambling awkwardly to put myself between them. The space was so small that I didn't have to stretch far to put one hand on each of their chests. Edward wrapped his hand around my waist, ready to yank me out of the way.

  "Stop it, now," I warned him.

  Under my touch, Jacob began to calm himself. The shaking slowed, but his teeth were still bared, his eyes furiously focused on Edward. Seth continued to growl, a long unbroken sound, a violent background to the sudden silence in the tent.

  "Jacob?" I asked, waiting until he finally dropped his glare to look at me. "Are you hurt?"

  "Of course not!" he hissed.

  I turned to Edward. He was looking at me, his expression hard and angry. "That wasn't nice. You should say sorry."

  His eyes widened in disgust. "You must be joking -- he was crushing you!"

  "Because you dumped him on the floor! He didn't do it on purpose, and he didn't hurt me."

  Edward groaned, revolted. Slowly, he looked up to glare at Jacob with hostile eyes. "My apologies, dog."

  "No harm done," Jacob said, a taunting edge to his voice.

  It was still cold, though not as cold as it had been. I curled my arms around my chest.

  "Here," Edward said, calm again. He took the parka off the floor and wrapped it over the top of my coat.

  "That's Jacob's," I objected.

  "Jacob has a fur coat," Edward hinted.

  "I'll just use the sleeping bag again, if you don't mind." Jacob ignored him, climbing around us and sliding into the down bag. "I wasn't quite ready to wake up. That wasn't the best night's sleep I ever had."

  "It was your idea," Edward said impassively.

  Jacob was curled up, his eyes already closed. He yawned. "I didn't say it wasn't the best night I've ever spent. Just that I didn't get a lot of sleep. I thought Bella was never going to shut up."

  I winced, wondering what might have come out of my mouth in my sleep. The possibilities were horrifying.

  "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Edward murmured.

  Jacob's dark eyes fluttered open. "Didn't you have a nice night, then?" he asked, smug.

  "It wasn't the worst n
ight of my life."

  "Did it make the top ten?" Jacob asked with perverse enjoyment.

  "Possibly."

  Jacob smiled and closed his eyes.

  "But," Edward went on, "if I had been able to take your place last night, it would not have made the top ten of the best nights of my life. Dream about that."

  Jacob's eyes opened into a glare. He sat up stiffly, his shoulders tense.

  "You know what? I think it's too crowded in here."

  "I couldn't agree more."

  I elbowed Edward in the ribs -- probably giving myself a bruise.

  "Guess I'll catch up on my sleep later, then." Jacob made a face. "I need to talk to Sam anyway."

  He rolled to his knees and grabbed the door's zipper.

  Pain crackled down my spine and lodged in my stomach as I abruptly realized that this could be the last time I would see him. He was going back to Sam, back to fight the horde of bloodthirsty newborn vampires.

  "Jake, wait --" I reached after him, my hand sliding down his arm.

  He jerked his arm away before my fingers could find purchase.

  "Please, Jake? Won't you stay?"

  "No."

  The word was hard and cold. I knew my face gave away my pain, because he exhaled and half a smile softened his expression.

  "Don't worry about me, Bells. I'll be fine, just like I always am." He forced a laugh. "'Sides, you think I'm going to let Seth go in my place -- have all the fun and steal all the glory? Right." He snorted.

  "Be careful --"

  He shoved out of the tent before I could finish.

  "Give it a rest, Bella," I heard him mutter as he re-zipped the door.

  I listened for the sound of his retreating footsteps, but it was perfectly still. No more wind. I could hear morning birdsong far away on the mountain, and nothing else. Jacob moved in silence now.

  I huddled in my coats, and leaned against Edward's shoulder. We were quiet for a long time.

  "How much longer?" I asked.

  "Alice told Sam it should be an hour or so," Edward said, soft and bleak.

  "We stay together. No matter what."

  "No matter what," he agreed, his eyes tight.

  "I know," I said. "I'm terrified for them, too."

  "They know how to handle themselves," Edward assured me, purposely making his voice light. "I just hate missing the fun."

  Again with the fun. My nostrils flared.

  He put his arm around my shoulder. "Don't worry," he urged, and then he kissed my forehead.

  As if there was any way to avoid that. "Sure, sure."